Scenarios

For generations humans have been trying to delay that nice bit at the end of sex.
Naming football teams, doing maths equations etc, imagining horrible scenarios.
Well people, I have found my horrible scenario.
*Shudder*

I went to see my Dad yesterday.
As ever, we laughed ourselves silly.
He is growing all sorts of vegetables in his garden.
Various beans in black bags, potatoes in dustbins and courgettes in sacks.
While admiring my Step Mum’s primroses, I pointed to a growth and asked him what it was.
He looked at me is if I was a bit special and said,
“Onions! I fucking love ‘em don’t I!”
Every gap in her ‘Ornamental’ flower beds are filled with onions and shallots!
My Step Mum is in London for a few days, so Dad’s gone a bit feral.
He loves it.

I attacked the garden today.
Hacked away at the ‘lawn’ with garden shears and a rake.
Planted a blackcurrant bush, tree thing.
Bleeding knees are killing me now. Feels like floorboard nails are being driven into my patellas.
Tomorrow I’m going to try and cure myself by walking to Crisp-e’s.
I’ll let you know how it goes.